Luis was silent a moment. Benito could tell he was weighing it all against everything he knew Benito had inflicted on other people and trying to decide if he gave a shit about Benito’s pain.
Benito wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t. He’d done more to hurt Luis than Luis would probably ever know. “You know it was me, don’t you?”
“What was?”
“Dante. It wasn’t his idea to creep on your boy’s family. It was mine. I saw how close you were getting, and I knew he was your weak spot.”
Confusion coloured the haunted haze descending on Luis’s face. His gaze darted between Benito and Paolo banging plates on the counter. “But why? Asa said you never wanted me back on the road when I got out.”
“I didn’t. But fucking with you kept your brother distracted and I needed that.”
“So you could fuck him over?”
“Yes.”
“Then Asa fucked you over?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s everything like that,” Luis snapped. “That’s why you’re here. Because it didn’t work out for you, and now you want a chance you’ve never given to anyone else.”
“I gave it to you.”
“Asa gave it to me.”
“We both did. I knew you were his weak spot too. I could’ve exploited that. I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
Benito let out a slow breath. It took everything he had not to slump on the table. “I wanted you to be happy. Seeing you with him—” Benito nodded at Paolo. “It was nice. It made me think—never mind. Maybe I’m just a nice bloke. Ever think of that?”
“No. You’re a cold bastard, Martell. Always have been.”
Benito laughed. Couldn’t help it. “You’re confusing me with Asa. He’s the king, not me.”
“But you wanted to be.”
“I did.” Benito couldn’t deny it. “But I was sick, man . . . in the head. I’ve been away from it long enough to see that. Now, I want—”
“What?” Luis demanded. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know how it feels.”
“How what feels?”
“To be normal. To love someone and have them love you back and not spend your entire life looking over your shoulder.”
“I still look over my shoulder,” Luis said. “I looked today and there you were. It never goes away, so if you’re looking for deliverance, you’re not gonna find it.”
“I know that. I just want my family to be safe. For my—to be trusted, you know? I don’t care what happens to me.”
Luis hit Benito with another suffocating silence. His gaze drilled holes in Benito’s soul, and Benito couldn’t stand it. His soul was Mickey’s. And Gianna’s. Rosetta’s, maybe.
Not Luis Pope’s.
“Why now?” Luis asked suddenly. “Did something happen?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Luis held his stare a moment longer, then shook his head. “Nah, I guess not. Unless you killed someone. I’m not about that life. I can’t be. I got too much to lose.”
“I see that.” Benito glanced at Paolo again.
Luis’s gaze turned murderous. “Don’t think I wouldn’t. If anyone looks at him.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Just that I know you love him. And I’m jealous.”
“Of Paolo?”
“Of both of you. I had . . . something, and I fucked it up. Even if I can get off the road, I can’t get it back.”
“You know that for sure?”
“Yeah. If I’ve killed anything, bro, it’s that.”
Understanding warmed Luis’s features. His hands twitched, as though he wanted to reach out and . . . whatever. Benito had no idea.
But Luis kept his hands to himself. He stood and returned to Paolo. Another fiery discussion ensued, then Luis came back. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”
“Where?”
“Wherever you’re taking that grenade you’re hiding under the table.”
Luis escorted Benito to the underground. They rode ten stops west until they got to Hammersmith.
Benito followed Luis out of the station. “I’m supposed to meet him in Angel at ten.”
“You’re going to be early then,” Luis said.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Marching me somewhere. You trying to get me whacked, Pope?”
Luis crossed the road. Then he stopped outside an ale pub that was already serving coffee and artisan cakes—a world away from the greasy spoon Luis had made his home with Paolo. “I’m taking you to see him on his turf—his real turf—so you can see what’s important to him.”
“I know what’s important to him.”
“No, you don’t.”
“How do you know?”
Luis tilted his head sideways. “You are bigger. It’s not in my head.”
“I hit the gym a lot,” Benito said warily. “I guess going straight is like prison. You gotta fill your time with something.”
“Find something better. Something that makes you feel alive, man. Even if it’s just loving someone more than you’ve ever loved anyone.”
Benito shook his head. “I already told you. I fucked that up. Now I just have to take care of my girls.”
“You ever think of telling Asa that straight?”
“We’ve never got that far.”
“Yet.” Luis jerked his head at the ale pub. “Let’s try.”
Before Benito could respond, he ducked into the pub and nodded to the woman behind the counter. “Is he in?”
“Upstairs,” she said. “Not sure if he’s up.”
Luis turned to Benito. “He’ll be up. He can’t sleep past dawn.”
“I guess you’d know.”
Luis snorted and kept walking.
Benito followed him into the back of the pub and to a flight of stairs. At the top, they came to a door secured by a combination lock.
Luis knocked.
Benito steeled himself.
Asa answered the door a split second later, dressed in workout clothes, with a toddler on his hip.
His expression was stoic. Only a twitch in his jaw gave him away.
He glanced between Luis and Benito. “What are you doing here? Both of you, I mean. Together.”
Luis smiled at the toddler, leaning on the doorframe like he visited every day.
Perhaps he did.
“I’m mediating,” Luis said. “And I don’t have time to traipse to Angel for your bullshit, so . . .”
Asa shrugged. “Whatever.”
He stepped aside, waving them in.
Benito trailed Luis inside, wondering if he’d fallen asleep on the train and never woken up.
Asa led them to a living space with deep-seated couches and a huge TV. He left the room with the toddler and returned alone. “My sister’s kid,” he said to Benito. “I’m only allowed to spend time with her here, away from the road, so if you want to talk business, you gotta meet me in Angel later.”